My Soldier
by MatthewOhMyMaplyPancakeGod
Summary: Matthew Williams works at a small Cafe, and his life is nothing special. Many are worrying over the Vietnam War or the Draft but the 17 year old didn't have many cares at the moment. That all changes when a certain American walked into the cafe. Alfred F. Jones enters his life for only a few hours before he gets on a bus and joins the army. The letters he sends is all Matt has left
1. Chance Meeting

This is what I get for listening to music, well here is the starting of what will hopefully be something good. I hope you enjoy it.

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Chance meeting

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A petite looking blond glanced over at a small calendar that hung carelessly on a cream colored wall. "It is July, 6th sir," his soft voice said to a customer. The sun burnt balding man gave a curt nod and then sent the waiter away with a wave. It was a quiet day at the small cafe that Matthew Williams worked in. It was a bit surprising but the Canadian assumed that the normal customers were off on some adventure due to the fourth of July.

Heaving a soft sigh the blond ducked back into the kitchen, the air was filled with smoke. "D-Did Arthur try to cook again?" he coughed, his hands waved in front of his own face trying to disperse the choking black smoke. He heard a halfhearted answer of yes. Giggling softly he began to open the few windows that were in the back. "Francis should learn the keep Arthur back in his office, he may burn down the whole place someday!" His comments were met with a few laughs and one growl. _Oh no! Is Arthur still here in this smoke?_ "U-Um, Sorry sir!" he said quickly before running back out to the front.

Brushing off his black uniform pants he quickly forced a smile over his pink lips. Apparently it was pleasing to the customer to smile at them when you work. Matthew never fully understood it but there were quit a few things that confused him. What was one more on the list? Accompanying his black pants was a white t-shirt, also standard issue of this certain cafe. A white apron topped off the outfit. It made the Canadian feel like a girl at the best of times, especially when people did mistake him for one. His blond hair was a little curly and reached his thin shoulders with one fly away curl in front of his face, he kind of understood how people would think it was a girlish style. But still, it was hard not to growl and roll his violet eyes whenever someone referred to him as a she.

A soft bell drew him out of his thoughts, the front door swung open and the dry heat of the outdoors invaded the air-conditioned room. They had been in a heatwave for a few weeks now there was still no sign of rain. "You can pick where you sit," Matthew called to whoever walked through the door. The sound of boots scuffing across the floor filled the almost empty room, then a thud replaced the soft sounds. Matthew sighed a little and peeked into the back his eyes seeking a certain brunette. Sadly Elizaveta was hiding somewhere...again. Which stuck Matthew with waiting on all the tables for now. Holding back a sigh he picked up a menu and turned to look for whoever walked in.

Matthew's eyes rested on a boy that looked to be about a year or two older then himself. The stranger was sitting in a booth that was facing him so he could easily study his fair features. His elbow was on the table, so clearly he had little manners, and his chin was resting on his open palm. Wheat blond hair graced his head a silly cowlick stuck straight up from his bangs. Behind a pair of square framed glasses were two dazzling sky blue eyes. His skin had been kissed by the sun but was not the red one would expect to see in the summer. The Canadian's eyes trailed lower but stopped at the green Army uniform that adorned his skin. _The poor boy..._ he thought. _He must have been chosen for the draft._ The Vietnam War had claimed a few of Matthew's older friends already, the 17 year old did not understand why they would use the draft. Or why they were even in this war! But he kept his questions and opinions to himself, kept his head down, and worked as hard as he could.

Taking a breath he walked over to the boy. He noticed the others blue eyes dart nervously towards him. He must be waiting for the bus, does he not know that it is not due here for a few more hours at least? Pushing all of his thoughts aside he focused on the American and gave him the sweetest smile he could to try and reassure him. "Here is your menu sir," he said before placing the flimsy thing in front of him. "My name is Matthew, if you need anything just let me know and I will help you."

Those blue eyes seemed to look through him as he spoke, which he was use to. He had been told more then a few times that he blended in with the furniture. The Canadian was about the back away before he was embarrassed when the other spoke. "Would...would you sit with me Matthew?" a strong southern accent caressed the words as they left the others mouth. Matthew was faced with a pair of now shining blue eyes he did not know what to say at first. "I am feeling a little down right now and would really like someone to talk to," he continued quickly.

Matthew hesitated before looking towards the back door for a moment but no one else was there. The Canadian could not help but feel sorry for the other, he was here all alone waiting to go off to join the army. "I have to work right now," he whispered, looking back into his beautiful eyes. "But my shift ends in an hour and I know a place we can go and talk," he said reassuringly.

The American's face lit up with happiness and he nodded at Matthew. "Okay! Oh my name is Alfred by the way. Alfred F. Jones!" His free hand reached out so they could shake.

Chuckling a little Matthew took his hand, "It is nice to meet you Alfred, as I said my name is Matthew, Matthew Williams and I still need to take your order."

Alfred paused and seemed to flail in his mind for a moment, "I just want a Coke for now," he finally managed after giving him the 'deer in the headlights' look. A soft smile brightened Matthew's features, with a small nod he went to fill the order.

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Time is a very funny thing. When you have plans it does one of two things, it either seems to pass by very slowly or it zooms by in the blink of an eye. Right now, time should have a speed limit. The last hour of Matthew's work just seemed to fly past unnoticed. The cafe had grown quit busy after Alfred had arrived. Elizaveta had to come out of hiding and actually work with Matthew. The Canadian had refilled Alfred's glass a time or two as the hour went on, he smiled widely at him each time and they shared a few words before the younger was swept away by work.

Matthew slipped into the back when his shift finally ended. He slipped off his apron and placed it gently into the small backpack he had with him. Grasping the pack tightly he prepared himself for the war zone he was about to go through. When he was ready he slipped into the kitchen, weaving between people he soon reached Francis, their head cook. "I am going home Papa," his quiet voice informed the French man.

"I will be there soon Matthieu," Francis smiled over at him his own light blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail at the moment. But a few strands had escaped the evil hairband and framed his sharp cut face. There was some stubble on his chin, Arthur probably yelled at him about that already today. Yet Francis never got rid of it sometimes Matthew wondered if he just wanted to get yelled at by the angry Brit that ran this place. Francis had blue eyes as well, but they were seemed to be a watered down blue. Not like the bright blue that Alfred's were.

Matthew pressed chaste kisses to both of his Papa's cheeks, "I will cook dinner tonight," he promised before he hurried out of the back. Francis Bonnefoy was not really Matthew's father. In fact Matthew did not even know who his biological parents were. The Frenchman who raised him had found him in a thin cardboard box, covered in nothing more then a cloth diaper and a small blue blanket. There had been a note on the side of the box but Francis never told Matthew about it. The only other thing that was in the cramped space was a stuffed polar bear toy. Matthew still had that toy to this day, for some reason he could never give up Kumajiro.

Matthew stood by the door leading out to the main floor for a moment or two, gathering all of the courage and pushing out all of the memories that were assaulting him. When he was ready he strode over to where Alfred still sat. "Ready?" he whispered, surprising the daydreaming boy.

Alfred's eyes looked up at him surprise shining in them before he visibly relaxed a light smile spreading the corners of his lips, "Yep! I just need to pay..." Matthew shook his head when he started to say that. He did not want to tell him, but he had payed for his drinks before he had slipped into the back.

"It's on the house," he assured him before holding his hand out to him. "Just come with me."

Alfred's smile grew, he grabbed the duffel bag from his seat before he slipped his hand into the others soft hand. "I am all yours Matthew," he chuckled.

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Well there we go, Chapter one is down! Review and I will try to put up another chapter quickly, motivation helps a lot though. And please, do not spare me in your reviews. Rip my heart out with your criticism if you must!

I do not own Hetalia!


	2. Never Say Goodbye

Well, here is chapter two! Thank you to all those who reviewed. And if you guessed what song I had been listening to then you are right. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter as well.

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Never Say Goodbye

A faint blush tinted the Canadian's cheeks at his words. Matthew tried his best to ignore how his body betrayed him. A smile made it way onto his lips when they exited the Cafe. The air was thicker then it was before, the sun was still high enough to beat down on them. But Matthew had grown use to the heat in his short time living here. In fact his whole body seemed to relax in the humid air as they walked further and further away from the cafe.

"Where are you from?" Matthew finally asked. Alfred's accent fascinated him slightly and it was clear from that alone that he was not from around here.

"Oh, you know, here and there," the American answered cryptically. "I traveled around a lot before I was drafted."

"I see," Matthew said with a slow nod. So he was a drifter? Where was his family at?

"And where are you from?" Alfred burst his thoughts with the question.

"I am from Canada," he said softly. He couldn't help but chuckle at the surprise on Alfred's face.

"So you're not American?" Alfred asked. Matt shook his head slowly and led him towards the pier. "Huh, that's kind of weird."

"How so?" Matthew eyed him for a moment, almost daring him to say something stupid.

"Um, never mind," the other said quickly, his eyes dropping to rest on his own scuffed boots.

Matthew nodded approvingly a small laugh or two escaping him. Alfred seemed really sweet so far, it was a shame that he would have to go to war. "Will you tell me about yourself? Well, whatever you are comfortable with telling," he amended quickly.

The Canadian almost regretted his words when Alfred squeezed his hand a little. Both were silent as they neared the pier. The water was unmoving in front of their eyes.

"My birthday was two days ago, if you haven't guessed I'm 18," Alfred whispered.

Matthew was shocked, two days? They only gave him two days to enjoy his age before they ship him off? That seemed so horrible. It seemed impossible for him to be able to experience everything a normal 18 year old could in two days. Now he is wasting his last few precious hours with...with him.

A flush spread across Matthew's cheeks. He slowly peeked up at Alfred. The American's blue eyes were trained on him, how could he even have a smile at a time like this? Yet Matthew found himself smiling back at him.

Matthew stopped walking a few feet from the piers edge. Slipping his hand out of Alfred's he opened his bag and searched for something. When he was younger his Papa use to embroider blankets and other small things for Matthew. He passed on his knowledge when the Canadian was old enough to use the needle himself.

After a second Matthew pulled out a pale cream handkerchief. He had embroidered a red maple leaf and Kuma's unchanging expression onto it when he was younger. It had always been lucky for him so maybe...

"Happy late Birthday Alfred," he said softly, holding the fabric out to him.

Alfred seemed to be surprised by this but he accepted the handkerchief with a smile. "A leaf and a polar bear?" he asked while he studied it.

"Oui, it will give you luck," he promised. After fixing his bag he walked to the edge of the pier. "I made it when I was younger," he sat as he spoke. It was only moments later that Alfred was sitting beside him.

"Thanks," he said happily before slipping the gift into his pocket.

Matthew swung his feet over the edge of the wood, "It was my pleasure Alfred." He was a little surprised when the American took his hand again.

The two of them watched the unbroken water as the sun began to set. They did not have much time left and both of them knew that. But the silence between them stretched on.

"Matthew?" Alfred finally spoke.

"Yes Alfred?" he peeked up into the others sapphire eyes.

"I don't want to seem creepy, and I bet you're probably dating someone and I don't care about that. But I really don't have anyone to write to. I was wondering if it doesn't bother you at all, could I send some letters to you?"

Yet another blush betrayed Matthew, he looked away for a moment. The thing was he had never even been on a date before, much to his Papa's displeasure. No one had ever really seemed like the right one to him.

"I would like it if you wrote to me," he finally said. A large smile graced his lips when he peeked up at Alfred again.

"Great!" his face brightened in a breath taking way. Like sunshine peeking through storm clouds.

Matthew squeezed his hand gently, "Come on Alfred, we have to get you back before the bus gets there," he warned as he stood. Alfred stood with him, nodding a little sadly. "Don't be like that, smile again," he whispered.

Alfred, eager to make him happy, let his smile brighten his expression again. They walked quickly to the cafe, not wanting to miss the bus. The sharp snap of Alfred's boots on the pavement was the only noise between them.

The pair made it just as the bus slowed to a stop in front of a group of people. Many of them were in the same green as Alfred. Family members were around them, saying their goodbyes.

"Well Matthew Williams, it was very nice to meet you," Alfred said gruffly. "I will write to you as soon as I can."

Matthew looked up at the blond and nodded, "It was nice to meet you to, Alfred Jones," he said quietly. "And I cannot wait for your letters."

Alfred smiled and the next moment Matthew was pulled into a hug. His cheeks turned dark red but he was quick to hug him back. They separated after a minute or two.

"Be safe," the Canadian whispered before he chastely kissed his cheek.

"I will be," he promised before stepping back. "I'm a hero after all," he chuckled before he got onto the bus.

Matthew stood in the crowd of families and friends. He realized that they never said the words, goodbye. It gave him a little hope that they may meet again. No, he knew they would meet again. He waved as the bus began to drive away, and Alfred waved back through a window. The violet eyed boy watched the bus until it vanished in the distance.

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I hoped you liked it!I still do not own Hetalia. But I am still motivated by reviews!


	3. First Letter

Well, here we go again! Chapter three! Thank you all for reviewing!

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First Letter

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That day was on Matthew's mind for a long time even if life went on as though nothing happened. There were a few times where Matthew had to wonder if it had all been just some dream he had. No, it had to have been real. It had certainly felt real… His job only distracted him for short bursts of time through out the week. Therefore, he did what every normal teenager did. He hung out with his friends and passed the time by either drawing or waiting. The Canadian did not want to admit what he was waiting for.

His friends mainly consisted of two Italians the Vargas twins. They may have looked alike but the differences in their personalities were like night and day. Feliciano Vargas was sweet and a little vague; he was an excellent cook that loves pasta almost as much as Matthew loved pancakes. He was very bubbly and happy most of the time especially when he was with Ludwig Beilschmidt. Though Ludwig would deny it Matthew figured that they had more then just a friendly relationship. However, the tall German had been drafted as well.

Romano Lovino Vargas was quit the potty mouth though. He was very defensive of himself and his brother. It seemed like he had a permanent pout on his face, unless he was yelling then he just looked terrifying. It took Matthew a long time to warm up to him. Nevertheless, once he got to know him he discovered his nice side. Lovino was able to be kind to only one person. That one person happened to be the Italians boyfriend, a Spaniard named Antonio Carriedo. Sadly, he had also been drafted into the army. The twins were a little down and depressed that they had been chosen to go. Matthew worried about his friends, he wondered if they would be okay.

The Vargas twins were visiting the lone Canadian when his first letter came. The Italians both had letters from their lovers; Ludwig was not here to deny it!

"Matthieu, you have mail!" Francis called as he entered the home with some envelopes and a newspaper.

The letter he was handed was in a simple envelope with some writing that was scribbled on it. The only thing that was not stamped was his address. A light blush colored Matthew's cheek; he eagerly ripped the letter open. Feli watched him his bright amber eyes open for once, but Lovino was looking down at a letter that he had receive from Antonio the day before.

_Dear Matthew,_

_ I'm writing this on the bus, so sorry for the messy handwriting! However, I wanted to tell ya that I know where we are going. The Army camp is in California! That is one place I have not been yet. I cannot wait! I wonder if I can slip off the base and look around. Do you think that would get me into trouble? Probably but still! I think it would be worth it! Anyway, I was wondering if we could spend more time together when I get back. As far as I can tell, you are kind of cool. Well this has killed like five minutes of the bus ride. I think I am going to sleep while I can. I am gonna use your gift as a pillow!_

_ Tiredly yours, _

_ The Hero!_

_ Alfred F. Jones_

A very soft smile crossed Matthew's lips as he read the letter silently. He could hear Feli and his Papa giggling at him. Looking up at them he felt his smile slip, "What is so funny?" he muttered giving them a dirty look.

"My little boy!" Francis cooed. "That look on your face, who was that letter from mon cher?" he questioned.

"Si Matthew! Who was it from?" Feli asked as he tried to reach out and take the letter from him.

"No one!" he said quickly, holding the letter above his head. "Why do you even want to know? And what is wrong with my face?" he questioned.

"Never mind Matthieu, just be careful when it comes to matters of your heart," Francis warned before he wandered off with the rest of the mail.

"Perverted bastard," Romano muttered under his breath when the older man left. "Just because you blush and smiled at a letter does not mean that your heart is involved." The Italian nodded a little as though he was trying to tell himself that more then the others. The paper in Romano's hand crumpled a little.

"Fratello?" Feli whispered, his hand reaching out to grasp his shoulder. "Antonio loves you, he did not want to leave you behind. Just be strong for now and everything will be okay! I have a good feeling about all of this! Nothing can go wrong!" he blabbed. "Now, let's go home and make some pasta! Grandpa will be home soon and he will most likely be hungry, so we can make pasta with tomatoes. Don't you like tomatoes fratello? They may be just what you need to cheer up! Then for desert we can have…" The Italian went on and on without even pausing to breath.

Matthew and Romano exchanged glances; the Canadian began to giggle while the older twin dragged his still blabbing brother out of the house. Rolling his violet eyes Matthew looked down at the letter one more time.

Matthew slowly walked to his room as he re-read the words on the paper. This was definitely proof that he had not been dreaming that day! Alfred was real and he was already writing to him before he got to the camp. The Canadian felt special, someone that barely knew him thought he was cool and want to hang out with him more. His heart was fluttering wildly in his chest when he made it to his room. The teenager plopped down at in the chair in front of an old dark wood desk that Francis had given to him.

The bedroom around him was plain and could even be considered dull. The walls were an eggshell white, and lacked any decorations. There was a dresser against one wall and the bed against the other. They were made of the same wood as his desk; there were a few articles of clothing on his floor but other then that the room was completely clean.

After gathering his thoughts, the Canadian pulled a sheet of paper out of his desk and picked up a pencil. He rolled the pencil between his fingers for a few moments before he began to write.

_Dear Alfred,_

_I received your first letter to day, thank you for writing to me. First off, I think that you would get into trouble if you slip away from the camp just to go running around California. So if you do it make sure it is worth your while. If you are going to get into trouble then you should make it worth your while. That is what my Papa always tells me before he messes with our boss Arthur. He should learn but sadly, he always finds new ways to annoy the Briton. Maybe you can meet the both of them one day. If you go running around be sure to wear sunscreen and light clothes so you do not burn or have a heatstroke._

_I am also glad that my handkerchief can be useful to you as a pillow. However, I doubt that it was comfortable. Nevertheless, I am glad that it has some purpose to you. I am also happy that I can distract you for a few minutes. You can write to me anytime you need a distraction or if you need someone to talk with._

_Oh, if you meet anyone named Ludwig or Antonio they are two of my friends. You can probably talk to them and win them over so you can have some people who will help you._

_Write to me again soon and let me know how you are doing. Be very careful out there Alfred._

_ Sincerely,_

_ Matthew Williams._

Matthew read over his letter and smiled a little to himself; he dug in his desk and pulled out an envelope. "I will have to get more of these," he mused to himself as he slipped the note inside and sealed it. It was a struggle to read the mailing address off Alfred's envelope but he managed after a few moments. He cringed slightly as he licked the stamp and put it in the top right corner.

"Matthieu! Dinner will be ready soon," Francis yelled up to him.

"Okay Papa, one moment!" he called back. He hurried out of the house, pausing at the mailbox he pressed a soft kiss to the envelope and then slipped the letter into the mailbox, flipping up the little red flag. He had heard from his Papa that if you kiss your important letters then it would have a greater chance to get there safely. It was a childish thing he knew, but it gave him some hope. "Please be careful Alfred," he whispered before trudging back inside of his home.

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There ya go! I hope you enjoyed their first letters to each other! Review for more of the story!


	4. Time Moves On

Sorry about the long wait, I had some computer issues...I was asked to do a chapter from Alfred POV so let me know if you like the story better this way and I will try to do it more often!

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Alfred fell onto the thin mattress that was his bed, the American's sweat soaked uniform clung to his flesh. The soldier knew that he should take a shower and clean up before he relaxed, but that required an effort that was beyond him. Training had been hard but they had almost completed their first three weeks. It had literally been a living hell. They had classes on how to use guns and how to fly the planes; they had physical training everyday and group punishments for someone's mistakes. Alfred's muscles were tense and sore from the miles they had ran before they finished for the day. Why had Gilbert argued with their commander? If the albino had kept his big trap shut then they wouldn't have been of been punished. But no! Gil had opened his mouth which had gotten them all yelled at when he spoke out of turn!

"Hey Alfred, we're going to the showers. You can either join us or wait until we're done," one of the others called to him. The rest of his bunkmates were gathering their personal items so they could shower.

"I'll take mine later dude," he muttered against his pillow. A few of them patted his back on their way out, and soon he was alone. Heaving a sigh, he slowly set up on his bed. His blue eyes scanned the room to make sure he was alone. Smiling a little, he reached under his pillow and pulled out the letter he had received from Matthew a few weeks ago. The parchment, creased from the many times he had folded and unfolded it, was stained a little with some water and food. Alfred had tried to be careful but sadly, he was kind of a klutz.

Unfolding the paper once more he smiled down at the words, Matthew had cared enough to write back to him. It was a little surprising to him. It gave him hope that he would have something to look forward to when he got out of the military. A best friend hopefully! Alfred's blue eyes drifted shut for a moment and he thought of the way the Canadian had smiled at him. He had looked so cute in the dim light of the setting sun. He whished he could see him one more time. For now, he would have to settle with him memories.

"I should write him back now that I have the free time. I probably scared the crap out of him by not writing," he nibbled on his bottom lip at the thought of Matthew being worried. Grabbing a sheet of paper and a pencil he went to the small card table that all of the men shared.

_Dear Matthew,_

_Sorry I couldn't write sooner, they have been working us pretty hard and I fall asleep as soon as I lay down on my bed. Even though the mattress is thin and uncomfortable. Nevertheless, things are going well here. I have to be careful what I write about though; they have censors that check our mail. They don't want any secrets to get out. Guess what though! I'm going to be a pilot! I can't wait! I will be piloting a Northrop F-5 Freedom Fighter; I like the sound of that. I always wondered what it was like to fly, and now I'm finally going to find out. _

_All of my bunkmates are hitting the showers right now; we had to run because the albino Gilbert couldn't keep their trap shut. I bet he will be regretting it through out the night. Torture will be administered as soon as the lights are off. I think I'm going to put a living animal or insect in his bed. _

_Anyway, I haven't snuck away from the group yet. I haven't even had a chance to wander, it will still be a few weeks before we are allowed to really relax and do as we want. I have been using sun block and drinking plenty of water so you don't have to worry about me there. I may die from being over worked though. Physical training is a nightmare but I am getting into good shape. I can woo anyone with my manly muscles when this is over! Do you think I could try to woo you? If you let me, I am up for the challenge. I would do everything I could to try and impress you. _

_I found Antonio and Ludwig by the way! We are bunkmates and I think that they're cool with being my wingmen. It's pretty cool to make friends by just mentioning that we are friends. Luddy is a little hesitant of trusting me but Antonio was very eager to be my friend and for some reason he gave me a tomato. He keeps talking about his boyfriend Lovi, I'm a little scared to meet him. Is it true that you, Lovi, and Feli are in the marching band? If it is what instruments, do you guys play?_

_I'm probably blabbing, so I think I'm going to wrap this letter up so I don't bore you to death. All in all everything is going well, and I already wish I were home! I promise I will try to write sooner next time. _

_Your hero,_

_Alfred Jones_

Alfred sealed the letter in an envelope as the others started to filter back into the room. "Hey amigo! What is that?" the bright green-eyed man was quick to crowd him, trying to grab the envelope. He was wearing a fresh pair of pants and a black sleeveless shirt. His chocolate brown hair was dripping wet but he did not have a towel on his person. The water drops slid slowly down the tan skin of his neck. Antonio looked darker then he had the first time they met, it was probably all the time in the sun that did that to him.

"Nothing dude," he pulled the envelope away from him and dove to his bed. He shoved Matthew's letter back under his pillow for safekeeping.

"Awww, are you writing a love letter to Matthew?" he said with a soft smile. "I have to write to my sweet little Lovi again soon. I know that I wrote to him yesterday, but I miss him so much," he sighed and went to his own bed.

Ludwig had been watching the exchange quietly from his bed. He was dressed in the same clothes as Antonio; they had all been issued the same thing to sleep in when they need it. The German's short blond hair was covered with a thin towel so he did not drip water everywhere. Somehow, he had managed to stay as pale as he was on the first day they had met. He didn't even get sun burnt! It was like a miracle or something.

The blue-eyed blond seemed to be in deep thought as he sat there. Alfred wondered if he was thinking about Feliciano. The American had noticed the change in Ludwig whenever the Italian twin was mentioned; he grew quiet and a little awkward. If you looked hard, enough you can even see a blush on his cheeks.

"Luddy, dude, you may not know it but you have fallen pretty hard for that Italian twin," Alfred chuckled softly. As expected, the German's cheeks flushed and he started to stutter denials. Laughing more Alfred gathered his own things, along with the letter, and slipped out of their bunk. He dropped off the letter with all the others that needed to be sent before he went to the showers.

After he scrubbed himself clean and washed his wheat blond hair, he turned off the water. Grabbing a towel he dried his soaking body quickly and then dressed himself. Whistling a light tune, he hurried back to the bunk and collapsed onto his bed once again. Sliding his fingers under his pillow, he touched the paper that it hid. Smiling softly he closed his eyes and thought of Matthew as he drifted off to sleep.

Matthew was starting to wonder if Alfred was okay. Had he wrote something that had upset the American? Did he forget all about him or was he ignoring him or…? Sighing he closed the mailbox once more. The Canadian had been checking for any letters from him for a few weeks now and sadly, there was still none. Well the mail had yet to come that day so he could get one today! He hoped that the letter would be there.

After a few more moments of staring at the mailbox, he finally trudged back inside of the house. "Still no mail yet Papa," he called as he opened the door.

"Okay, but I have to wonder why I have been getting an update on the status of our mail every half an hour," the Frenchman chuckled. "Did your_ friend_ not send you another letter yet?" he questioned.

"Don't say it like that Papa!" Matthew blushed darkly and looked at him. "He is just a friend; you make it sound like we are having a secret love affair or something like that."

"Aw, mon cher you are so young! You have yet to see what I do. People in love have a certain look and air about them when they speak of the person they like," he chuckled. "Remember Matthieu, amour fonctionne de façon étrange," he chuckled softly.

"Papa, there is no 'amour' between us. We are just friends," he said quietly.

Francis rolled his eyes a little, his arms crossing over his chest. "There has to be some amour between you two, even if it is as simply as the love between friends," he warned him. "Oh, and the mail is here."

Without thinking, Matthew ran back out side when he heard him. The mail was here! "O-OW! Ah!" he whimpered as his bare feet hit the hot concrete. He hopped from foot to foot, avoiding rocks as best as he could. He made it to the soft grass near the mailbox and smiled at the comfort it gave him. Forcing the mailbox open, he looked through the mail quickly. His hope fell a little when his search seemed to be fruitless. His hands froze on the last envelope it was addressed to him! He checked the return address quickly and smiled. "Alfred didn't forget," he said quietly.

He shoved the rest of the mail back into the box before hopping back into the house. "Where is the rest of the mail?" Francis asked when he walked through the door.

"In the mailbox," Matthew said with an innocent smile. Frowning the Frenchman rolled his eyes and headed towards the door, muttering in French about ungrateful children. Giggling a little Matthew ran up to his room and opened the letter.

His violet eyes danced over the page as he read the words that Alfred had written. A smile grew on his lips as he slowly sat at his desk. He felt a little bad that Alfred was being run ragged but that was the army. They needed soldiers in good shape and they didn't have a lot of time to do it in. Smiling shyly, he pulled out a clean sheet of paper and put Alfred's letter aside.

_Dear Alfred, _

_I am sorry that things are so hard for you; I really hope that you will be okay. I did miss your letter though; I was a little scared that you had forgotten about me. Don't laugh at my worry, people have forgotten me before. I am a little surprised that you haven't forgotten yet actually. _

_I am glad that you were able to become friends with those two, tell them if they aren't nice then I'm going to have to beat them. If I am thinking of the right person then Gil is Ludwig's older brother. So please do not do anything too bad to torture him, Ludwig may have to step in if things get out of hand and he can be scary. Romano's hatred of him makes life very interesting when we are all hanging out together. _

_I am happy that you will be able to fly a plane; I have always wondered what it would be like to fly as well. Being able to have the same freedom as a bird, I think it would be amazing. You should tell me what it feels like when you go up for the first time. _

_You don't need to woo anyone Alfred, I bet that you can get anyone that you wanted with very little effort. I mean who wouldn't want a hero? Anyway, why would you want to woo me in the first place? You could do so much better then little old me. _

_We are all in the band by the way; Feli and Lovi both play the piccolo. While I play an alto Saxophone, I also play the violin but not in the band. It is more of a hobby for me. My Papa taught me to play when I was younger. Maybe I can play for you when you get back here. It could be fun, but if you make fun of the way I play, I will be forced to hurt you. _

_I want you to know that you can never bore me, so you can write as much as you want. I like the things that you share with me. So please keep writing even if it is just pages of random things that don't mean a thing. I am just happy that you want to write to me at all. It means more to me then you will probably ever know. This may seem crazy but I kind of miss you Alfred. Please write to me again soon._

_Sincerely yours,_

_Matthew Williams._

The Canadian smiled down at his letter, he gently folded it and slipped into the envelope. He paused on the way out of his room and slipped Alfred's recent letter into a box that he had put the American's first one. Sighing he headed outside, it was still too hot to be out there for long. The thick humid air held no promise of rain though.

Matthew kissed the back of the letter gently before he tucked it into the mailbox. Nodding to himself he went back inside, intent on practicing with his violin. He wanted to learn as much as he could before he would have to play for Alfred.

Francis was watching his little Canadian as he walked to the mailbox once again. He found it odd that he was suddenly getting letters and then sending his own. What had happened on the day when he had come home late? Matthew did not really talk about it but there had to have been something. The Frenchman wondered whom Matthew was even writing to. He hated to admit it, but not many people remembered his son and it broke his heart. Yet, he had a pen pal somewhere out there and Francis couldn't have been happier that someone had finally noticed the treasure that his son was.

The sudden music from Matthew's room startled him out of his thoughts. He crept slowly towards the noise to investigate. The dark oak door was cracked enough that he could see through it. The blond boy was standing in front of his desk, his old violin rested lightly in his hand as he tuned it. Closing his blue eyes, he listened to the sweet noises that were filling the air in his little Matthieu's room. It had been so long since he had played the instrument. Francis had almost lost hope on ever hearing him play again. What had suddenly changed? Was it the one who sent him the letters? Did his little boy really find someone to love?

_In due time, I will find out_, Francis thought as he quietly walked away from his son's room. _I always find out._

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